


Ashen Snow

by Dracoravebird



Series: Ties that Bind [2]
Category: Warframe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cameos, Flashbacks, M/M, Original Character(s), PTSD, Tenno is an Adult, Warframe Sex, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2020-07-11 10:42:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19926769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracoravebird/pseuds/Dracoravebird
Summary: Honestly, the Operator couldn’t have asked for a better half than what he got, and he had no doubt this Cephalon was someone he could depend upon. Count on. He only hoped the Cephalon would come to count on him in turn, in the coming storm.





	1. The Scarred Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Added this chapter because I felt like it and I wanted to explore events Ordan glossed over in his fragments. This has some AU elements, but most of them mild. It also contains my limited but comfortable understanding of the timeline, which I have tweaked a bit.

Ballas knew Lee wasn’t skilled at subterfuge. And Lee knew Ballas had sent him out on this job because of it. No rations were given to him. He could eat when he came back with useful information, Ballas had said. He could have his Warframe back when he returned with proof of the mercenary leader’s death.

Lee had been out for more than a week, surviving on what he could find in the wilds. Mostly sparse fruits and nuts. Very little. His stomach hurt and hands were shaky, his bruises still sore and arm hurting.

He sat at the edge of the clearing, shivering as rain continued pouring down in thick sheets. He could see campfires set up within the ruined husk of the long-crashed ship. Could see people. Hooded, cloaked, armed, and armored. Each bore trophies and trinkets on their person. Even at this distance, he could smell roasting meat and he found his mouth was watering at it.

He could… take some. He could snag some food, leave, and come back in to finish his mission. Just enough to sate him.

Lee took a step forward. And lost his footing. Mud and loose rocks slid from under his foot and he was sent tumbling ass over teakettle down the hillside, only stopping when he ran stomach-first into a tree. His head hurt. He had smacked a rock? Blank space. A haze passed in front of his eyes. Then, gazing up as darkness crept in, he saw a figure standing over him.

He woke up gods only knew how much later. He was in a room. The smell of incense and tea and masculine musk. Dirt. Blood. It was so different from the baseline of tree scent, and a sharp contrast to the perfumes and oils of Ballas, or the starch chemicals of the labs. Pillows and furs were under him.

When he opened his eyes, he tensed. There was a campfire nearby. And sitting there, with amber brown eyes staring at him, was the leader of this cadre. Ordan Karris. The Beast of Bones. A man whom had slew thousands, hundreds of thousands, in the name of the Emperors.

The man he was sent to kill.

Tall. So tall, towering over the teen by nearly two feet. Broad in shoulders. Strong of muscle. When the man stood, he looked like a colossus. Like he could kill anything. Even Ballas.

He stepped toward him and Lee shrunk away with a whimper. The teen dragged a hiss through his teeth as he grimaced, before looking down. The loose shirt he now wore was just slightly parted, bandages bracing his ribs, and his arm in a sling and splint. Mud had been cleaned away, and he was in clean clothes too loose for his lithe body. A confused sound left him, his gaze rising again to the Beast of Bones, whom knelt beside the slab he lay upon.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was low. Smooth with a rough edge. Like flint.

“I-I… I was sent here to…” Lee swallowed hard, afraid to say, but more afraid to lie. “Ballas sent me to spy on you. And to kill you.”

Ordan leveled him with a nonplussed, blank expression. The kid was nineteen or so. Maybe twenty. Pale. Frightened. Scarred and ugly, like himself. Ballas had sent this scarred, ugly boy to kill him? After a moment, he stood and went to the fire.

Lee watched the man use a hook to pull the lid off an iron pot that sat beside the fire. Where the teen expected a firebrand or something equally unpleasant, he instead watched as the man filled a wooden bowl with something, and grabbed a bottle. When he came back, Lee saw it was a bowl of stew and a flask of tea.

It was no surprise that the teen hesitated before taking the offered food. Ordan was familiar with the display. He had seen many animals forced pliant and submissive by their masters. Starved, cubs killed, or beaten within an inch of their lives. Dangerous, as this boy was a Tenno, from the glow in his eyes. Ordan wondered how the boy hadn’t exploded and killed someone. He knew he would’ve, by now, if he had the power of a Tenno – the teens and children that the Orokin called devils.

He watched the boy eat. Watched him clutch the bowl like it would be snatched away. Ordan knew why the Orokin hated the Tenno. Because they had a power they couldn’t control. A power they couldn’t have, or take for themselves.

But why a boy had been sent to spy on him and kill him… Why. Ordan found himself turning the idea over in his head, his gaze returning to the campfire in his private space.

Once sure he wasn’t looking, Lee gazed at the man. Sand-colored skin bore ropes of scar-tissue, stark and pale in the golden background. Dark brown hair reached his mid-back, some of it curtaining his face like silk. The asymmetry, the imperfection, made Lee’s heart do a funny thing in his chest. He had never seen scars besides those of a fellow Tenno. The Orokin, and Ballas, were always so symmetrical. So grossly perfect that they were unnerving to look at.

This man, however… This Beast of Bones… was beautiful. 

\---------  
When they heard of the execution, Lee wasn’t the only Tenno to cry. When he had returned from that mission, he had told everyone of the Beast of Bones. The one whom had fed him. Tended his wounds. All even after being told Lee was sent there to murder him at Ballas’ order.

Tenno gathering together was forbidden. Warmongering, they called it. Yet, they gathered.

Ordan Karris had killed planets-worth of people. All to try and kill the Emperors, to set the Tenno free and die in a blaze of glory. On one end, what he had done was horrendous. Perhaps unforgivable. Most of the people he slaughtered were those the Orokin deemed their enemies. On the other end, noble. The actions of a warrior.

There were whispers amongst them. Whispers of rebelling. The Orokin had killed Margulis, turned them over to Ballas, and now killed the Beast of Bones. Umbra, the eldest amongst them and the only conscious Warframe, walked in on the conversation, and in the newfound silence, gave the Tenno his thoughts.

“Patience. Soon, the time will come. Soon.”

It did. They were forced to fight the Sentients when they returned. Those who could walked away. Those whom were too broken to refuse, or those coerced or extorted, stayed and fought.

In the end, it wasn’t enough to save the Orokin, whom fell to infighting and the war with Hunhow, and after, the Civil War between Dax and Tenno, which saw the end of the empire.

\---------


	2. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My OC:  
> Lee D’tama – Male Tenno. Preferred Warframe is Frost Hailstorm Prime with Incubus Ribbon syandana. Wears Ceno Pauldrons, Ceno Greaves with cargo shorts, hooded Vhad Cuirass, and Smelter Apparel. Preferred weapons are Cernos Prime bow, Spira knives, and Orthos Prime.

Lee didn’t know what was going on. In the end, it didn’t matter. These beings, these Grineer, were his enemies. Intent on taking him, and having lashed something to his leg. That was enough for the Frost.

Before, he didn’t recall. When he saw the ship get shot down… his heart sank into his stomach. A visceral upset as he remembered, in a flash, who was on that ship. In a split second, that twisting grief became unspeakable rage. He rushed Vor with a shout and, to the Grineer’s surprise, sent him flying backwards into a wall. However, as he tried to impale the murderer, he teleported away in a plume of energy he recognized. The Void.

[Hold on.] The Lotus told him as he continued slaughtering troops. [I’ve located your old ship. It’s been heavily scavenged, but—]

“Ordis is alive?” Lee paused, breaths whistling through his vents. “You almost made me leave him?!”

[We don’t have time for this. Follow the beacon on your HUD.]

“Don’t have time my ass, bitch!” He snarled, rushing for the beacon, fearing the worst. “Ordis! Ordis, if you can hear me, I’m on my way!”

There came only static from the channel. Dead air.

He cut his way through the troops, not bothering to mask his presence. His syandana was stained with droplets of dark red from the gore. When he reached the landing pad, he saw the ship, loading ramp closed and crude cables tethering it in place. Or, tethering it as far as these Grineer were concerned.

“Ordis? Ordis!” Lee pounded a fist against alloy paneling.

[Stop touching me you—What?] Ordis’ voice rang clear, the dead channel reopening. [Are my sensors deceiving me? Operator, is that you?!]

“Yes! I’m here!” Relief rushed through him, though brief. “Ordis! I need emergency liftoff! I’m under heavy fire!”

[The Operator is in danger? I will need a few moments to cycle the engines!]

“I’m just glad you’re okay!” He shouldered his Bratton, firing on the troops coming at them.

Engines fired. Hot air wafted over him. They sputtered, and then roared, turning over powerfully with the familiar vigor his Cephalon always seemed to have in abundance.

[Now! Get in!] Ordis commanded, gunfire bouncing off his shields as he powered them on.

Lee darted aboard the ship. The ramp drew up and closed behind him. There was a whoosh, and the cables snapped like delicate threads as Ordis pulled up, easily jerking free from the landing pad and diving upwards. Lee clung to the ramp’s hydraulic frame as the ship swerved and twirled, avoiding artillery fire with graceful ease and precision. Then, the artificial gravity kicked in, centering him and removing the sensation of movement altogether.

He ran to the cockpit, where Ordis’ holoform – a shimmering cyan octahedron – floated over the circular emitter at the cockpit’s front.

“Operator!” Ordis sounded happy, so joyful. And then, saddened. “Why did you abandon me?”

“I didn’t, Ordis. I didn’t.” He sighed in relief, dragging a hand gingerly along the cracks in the holoform. “I was forced into stasis.”

“Oh.”

He turned his head to glare over his shoulder at nothing. “And then she tried to gimme a different ship. WITHOUT TELLING ME!”

Ordis’ halos pulsed at how the Operator shouted at the Lotus’ ambiguous presence.

“Gods, they did a number on you.”

“I’m a shadow of my former self. I cannot serve the Operator in such a condition. Order me to self-destruct, I will understand.”

“What?! No! Ordis, I’d never do that to you. We can… We can get through this. Okay? I’ll get you fixed up—Ngh!” He fell to one knee, pain flaring up his leg to his spine.

“Operator! What happened?!”

“N-Nothing. They… They did something to me. I need to get it off. Somehow.” The Frost leaned against the console beside him. “Shit…”

[The Grineer are ravenous for old Technology. It is superior to theirs.] The Lotus stated, inserting herself into the conversation. [Perhaps there are systems left in the Orbiter Compartment?]

Growling, still seething at her, he made his way below deck.

“ _Lllook at this mmmess. Those sssavagesss_.” Ordis sneered, voice glitching briefly. “Components have been removed. The lower orbiter compartments have no life-support.”

“Are you okay?” Lee questioned, worried.

A deeper voice came through, then. “I’ve been through worse.”

“Let’s get you fixed up so we can get this thing off me.”

\---------

The darker, deeper voice was forgotten for a time. Lee busied himself gathering pieces he needed to get the ship back to full function. But… On the Grineer ship, what the Lotus suggested… He mentally shut off feed to her comm line.

“Ordis… I can’t let them—”

[I know.] The Cephalon said, voice calm where he wasn’t. [I’m with you. Hurry.]

Taking a shuddering breath, he tried willing away the pain now burning up the back of his leg and up his spine. He ran through the engine deck, breaking everything that looked important and frying their computer systems as best he could. He flooded the engine with coolant, and shunted fuel into the cooling systems.

[There’s no way they’ll be able to repair that.] Ordis said in satisfaction.

As Lee finally made for the green marker, he stumbled and fell to his hands and knees with a static-laced shriek. His blunt fingers dug into the flooring, shoulders hunching and back bowing.

[Operator? Operator! You need to breathe. Deep, slow breaths.]

He hiccupped, and tried, forcing himself to do as his Cephalon suggested. The back of his head was engulfed in a throbbing, fiery torment. His audios rang.

[ _Kid, I need you to breathe. Don’t cry. Stuttering will make it worse_.] That voice cut through the ringing loud and clear. [ _C’mon. On your feet_. You need to get moving before the ship detonates.]

With a shudder, he stumbled to his feet and took off running. The crew was scrambling, too concerned with salvage or escape to fire at him anymore. No sooner than he made it up the loading-ramp, he nearly fell, legs feeling jittery and weak. He shuffled to the foundry, remembering the medkit he had made, hoping it would help. As soon as he reached it, he collapsed. Shaking, clawing at the foundry’s countertop. His maw crackled as it split to reveal onyx fangs embedded in pearlescent white flesh, a forked cobalt tongue lolling out as he screamed bloody murder.

“Just… Just hold on, Operator! Ordis is flying you to the coordinates!”

The pain began to ebb. It left him panting and shaking.

Much to his displeasure, the Lotus broke through on another channel. [Tenno. This was reckless. I cannot afford to lose you.]

“So, I should throw away thousands of innocent lives instead?” The Frost hissed at her.

[Your survival would save many more than that. I suggest you be more careful in the future.]

Lee decided quickly that he didn’t like her and yowled low in his chest. “When I mute you, I want you to stay muted. Don’t hack my audio again.”

After a moment, he heard her hang up.

“Operator?” Ordis’ voice was laced with concern.

“I’m okay, Ordis.” Lee murmured before staring up at the ceiling. “What’s with your voice? It keeps changing.”

“I’m not sure. It could be a glitch from damage caused by the Grineer. I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“Oh?” He sounded relieved at this, and then cautiously happy. “Very well. But we should focus on negating this Ascaris. _As much as I hate to admit it_ … There could be someone who can help.”

\---------


	3. Absence of Howling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because I feel bad about having animals on a spaceship. T-T

“No. Just… No.”

[Why not?] The Lotus image tilted its head. [You are Tenno. You deserve to have a kubrow by your side.]

“One, Ordis said he isn’t comfortable with that. Two, this is a ship. Where will it go to the bathroom? Three, I can barely take care of a plant, let alone a pet.” Lee crossed his arms sternly at her. “My Taxon does just fine.”

[Ordis is a Cephalon. He must bow to your whims.]

“I’m NOT Orokin.”

This made her pause before she bowed her head and hung up.

“Bitch.”

There was a dark chuckle, and some static, before Ordis spoke. “I’m sorry if I’ve caused any trouble, Operator.”

“You haven’t. She just can’t seem to take no for an answer.” He rubbed his brow, cursing under his breath.

“Are you well?”

“Just a headache.” He strode up to the cockpit. “I… I remember. Umbra said there was an emergency. He took me off the ship and told you to wait.”

Ordis said nothing, halos turning slowly.

“Can you ping his signal?”

“No. Several Tenno have been awakened and are active, but I lost his signal some time ago.”

Lee pouted. The idea of his mentor not surviving troubled him. However, Umbra was the kind of man that Lee wouldn’t believe the death of unless he saw the body himself. Umbra was strong. The strongest Lee had ever met, in terms of raw power and knowledge. He had to have survived.

“Operator?”

He mentally blinked, and gazed at his Cephalon. “I bought a bedroll off the Ostron. Can I lay it in here? The… The sounds of the consoles help me sleep.”

“Of course.” Ordis answered, voice concerned and soft. “Please do.”

The Operator ducked below deck long enough to grab it, and he laid it out in front of the cephalon’s projector. Ordis’ light grew a bit duller at the edges and brighter in the middle. Like a candle, or a nightlight.

“You should lay down. We have no medication and med-bay is still defunct. But rest should help your headache.” Ordis advised him, watching him.

“Thank you.” Lee murmured, sincere in every way. “Is whatsherface muted?”

“Quite.”

He stretched out and laid down on the bedroll, which was made of suede lined with soft fleece. “I’m glad I found you again.”

“And Ordis is glad you found him. _Sleep well_.” The lights dimmed.

In silence, Ordis watched as the Frost’s energy dimmed, venting air evenly, temperature leveling. He had forgotten what the Operator looked like. Now, he was reminded how beautiful his chosen Warframe was. Smoky indigo hide with cyan markings and obsidian blue energy. His custom syandana mirrored this, both a symbol of good fortune, and a symbol of power.

Perfect.

He drifted in the moon’s orbit. The Grineer were far enough away that he could allow his Operator to rest.

\---------

Lee busied himself the next few days trying to repair the ship. Darvo had led them to some good hotspots for supplies, leaving him with needed materials as well as fuel and credits. It was hard work, and he frequently had to ask for help. He’d always had trouble hacking and difficulty with the mechanical and mathematical aspects of things, meaning he often had to ask Ordis for help.

This was no exception. He needed the foundry up and running fully before he could make air-support charges or craft his preferred weapons. Sighing, he strode up to the cockpit, his footfalls silent. After several days walking about the ship, he had regained his balance and center of gravity – something he often had trouble with considering his build. However, he paused. Ordis’ holoform was dim, halos bright. Lost in thought and unaware of his presence, like he had his back turned. He was humming something. Something familiar that Lee couldn’t place but swore he had heard before. It made him think of a grand symphony with booming horns and drums. Something of action and imminence.

  
“Oh! Did you need something, operator?” Ordis snapped to attention.

He tilted his head. “What song was that? It sounds familiar.”

“I can’t recall its name. But that _thundering abomination_ —mess, is the only song I know.”

“Abomination?” Lee paused and stepped closer, sitting down on his bedroll, long legs crisscrossed. “You don’t like it.”

 _“I hate it!”_ Ordis’ light flinched at the snap. “No. I… I’m not fond of it.”

“I can fix the radio if you like.” He glanced at the device. “Should be easier than the damn foundry.”

“You don’t have to. I understand that we… you… have priorities.”

“Nonsense. We’re a team. I want you to be comfortable. But, in the meantime, I could teach you a song.”

“You could?” Ordis sounded somewhere between disbelieving and interested. “Then… please. I’d like to hear it.”

* Lee smiled internally, recalling the lyrics that were taught to him and the others when they were younger, and more innocent.

_Twinkle, twinkle, little star_   
_How I wonder what you are_   
_Up above the world so high_   
_Like a diamond in the sky_

_When the blazing sun is gone_   
_When he nothing shines upon_   
_Then you show your little light_   
_Twinkle, twinkle, all the night_

_Then the traveler in the dark_   
_Thanks you for your tiny spark_   
_He could not see which way to go_   
_If you did not twinkle so_

_In the dark blue sky you keep_   
_And often through my curtains peep_   
_For you never shut your eye_   
_Till the sun is in the sky_

_As your bright and tiny spark_   
_Lights the traveller in the dark_   
_Though I know not what you are_

_Twinkle, twinkle, little star_   
_How I wonder what you are_

Ordis was quiet for a long moment before speaking softly. “Thank you, operator. I like that song much better. Where…?”

“I learned it from Margulis. When she took care of us.” Lee told him, also quiet. “She would sing it to help us sleep. … The song makes me think of you.”

Another silence came. Something in Ordis fluttered at that. At being called a star. A guardian. A guide. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Ordis.”

\---------  
Lee made a second trip to Cetus not long after that. He perused the market, knowing he had credits and they needed them. There were a few things here and there for sale, but only a small portion of them caught his eye, and he spoke over his comm.

“Ordis?”

[I am here, Operator.]

“Would you mind if I put some decorations up?”

[Not at all. It is a bit bare-bones in here.— _Ugh_.]

The pun, assuming that’s what made him groan, went over his head. “Paper lanterns? Red ones?”

He hesitated. Something tugged at his mind. An uncertainty.

“Ordis?”

[If that’s what the operator wishes.]

The Tenno paused before offering a solution. “Perhaps I we could try them, and if you don’t like them, I’ll take them down?”

[I’d prefer that, honestly.]

Lee handed some credits to the merchant, taking a case of red paper lanterns that bore glowing crystal centers. Ordis said nothing as he hung them up in the cockpit, bathing the room in a soft and warm red light. He waited for any sign of protest. Instead, he heard the opposite.

“I don’t know why, but— _I like it_ —I can appreciate them.” Ordis murmured.

The Operator grew curious. “Does it remind you of anything?”

“I… I don’t know. Operator, this is troubling.”

“What is? What’s wrong?”

Ordis hesitated, light flickering. “It’s nothing. I suspect lingering damage from the Grineer trying to scrap the ship. I’m certain the continued repairs would help.”

Lee nodded to him. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you fixed up in no time.”

\---------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * AN: I heard this song in the Dead Space II trailers, and found the artist, Jewel. Full song is nice. And not mine in any way. No profit was made, blah blah blah, etc. Good song, though.


	4. Muscle Memory

Finding a cephalon shard out in the wastelands of Earth was… unnerving. Hearing Ordis’ voice behind it, more so.

_I was once the ugly Beast of Bones. I want to laugh. I want to scream. What is happening, Operator? Your faint heart is growing bright... you will awake at any moment. Well, I can't let you see me like this. Angry. I imagine myself hurting you and that does it. The pain of it cracks me open again. I watch tiny glittering fragments fall into the pit. I am happy again._

The words echoed in Lee’s mind. He remembered the Beast of Bones. The valiant warrior who dared defy the emperors. Even trying to slay them. No one had ever known what had happened to him. Rumors had run rampant. Lee knew Warframes were made of Tenno blood and Infestation flesh. Of metal and flesh and bone and blood. Cephalons, it seemed, were made of minds.

And this proud warrior, capable of infinite possibilities since he lacked a physical body… had broken himself out of fear of hurting him? It made no sense. And yet, it made perfect sense. Again, Lee’s mind turned to Ballas. An emotional manipulator to everyone. A puppetmaster pulling strings. He had said something, or done something, to make Ordis do this. And after a long while, Lee gathered up the courage to ask.

“Ordis?” Lee strode up to the cockpit and sat on his knees before his Cephalon.

“Yes, Operator?” His holoform appeared before him. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes and no. Maybe.” He paused, and sighed. “I don’t know.”

He waited for the Operator to gather his thoughts.

“Ordis… while I was on the mission, I… found something.”

“What did you find?”

“A piece of you.” Another pause, followed by a quiet and meek voice. “Ordis, why was there a shard of you out in the jungle?”

His light flickered. A sensation of dread, something physical, made his halos waver and stutter, and the lights around them flickered. Part of Ordis was eager to share the information he found. He wanted to be whole. Wanted the nightmares to end. The other part of him refused to budge. It was dangerous. A dark, harsh thing that could harm the Operator. Could kill him and rob him of life.

“There are… huge gaps in my memory, and my precepts are—fucked up—behaving strangely.” The cephalon hesitated a moment. “I… I think I might have done this to myself.”

“Why would you delete your memories?”

“I’m not s—” Static cut him off.

“Ordis?”

**“Do not lift the veil. Do not show the door. Do not split the dream.”**

That voice… Lee recognized it, and it chilled his blood. He tensed all over, plumes of mist lapping at his arms as his energy spiked. Of all the people he hoped were dead, Ballas was among them. And of all the people to come back and haunt him, it had to be Ballas’ voice speaking through his Cephalon, sullying Ordis’ being with his words.

**“Maintain the habitat. Maintain the Operator. Mobilize the Tenno.”**

“Ordis…?”

**“You are the Tenno. You are the Operator. Ordis is the Cephalon. Ordis is the ship.”**

“Orids!”

There came more garbled static, followed by worried puzzlement. “Operator? What just happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m okay.” He clenched his hands into fists and took a deep breath. “You… You just spoke. In Ballas’ voice.”

Ordis’ light flickered and burned bright. He hated Ballas on his Operator’s behalf, knowing what hell Lee had been through.

“He must’ve done something to your precepts and the Grineer triggered it somehow.”

“What can we do? I… I won’t let him hurt you. Not even through me.”

“It’s alright. I’ll ask around. I’m sure there’s a way to fix it. There’s always a way to fix it.” Lee assured him, gently running a hand down the undamaged side of his holoform. “Just take it easy and leave it to me. Okay?”

“I…” Ordis hesitated before sighing. “Very well, Operator. Perhaps you’re right.”

\---------

Turns out, Lee didn’t have to look far for a possible solution. He found and joined the Conclave, if only to keep in touch with others.

The Conclave Master, Teshin, had been the one to mention Simaris. “A great cephalon of immense knowledge, and ego.” The man had said, making some part inside the Operator internally smile with mischief. When he finally figured out where the damn elevator was, he took it up… took a deep breath… and approached. Doors swished open before him. No sooner than he walked in, an immense orange light loomed over him. Like an open flower with a central light, bright and fierce like fire.

“Ah. A Frost Warframe. It’s been quite some time since I have seen one such as you.” The figure said, his voice laced with a scholarly interest. “Welcome to my Sanctuary.”

Lee gave a respectful bow. “Thank you.”

“What brings you here? Do you seek to hunt for me, as others?”

“Perhaps later. I don’t wish to sound rude, but… I was told you could help me.”

“And what problem would have you seeking me out?”

“It’s… It’s my ship’s cephalon.” Lee confessed, worried.

“That is the sort of thing for mechanics, not me.” Simaris drew back, sounding disappointed, but he was harder to read than Ordis.

“Mechanics don’t help with this! … Teshin told me you could be trusted.”

There was a beat of silence, followed by baited interest. “Go on.”

Lee explained as best he could what had happened. He was thorough, including any pertinent details he could, including his theories. Simaris listened with an intense silence. Finally, when he finished and had showed him the memory shard, Simaris considered, the orange light at his center fluttering before burning just a touch brighter.

“I see. If what you say is true, your cephalon likely did purge his memories. Whether to protect you or himself remains to be seen. But I suspect you know him well.”

“I do.” He nodded up at the Great Cephalon. “Please… can you help?”

“Indeed. I can have my Sentinels search for the remaining pieces.” A tendril of orange light scooped up the broken cyan shard. “I can easily reassemble them in order, and I can include a string of code to deal with Ballas.”

A puzzled sound left him.

“The Executor was clever with people. But his understanding of Cephalons and computers was woefully lacking. Rest assured.”

“Is there anything I can do for you? To repay you?”

Simaris looked him over. “You really care for him.”

He nodded silently.

“I believe there are some tasks I have need of completion. I will send them to you.”

“Thank you, Cephalon Simaris. It… It means everything to me.”

\---------

“You’ve met Cephalon Simaris?” Excitement crept into Ordis’ voice. “What was he like?!”

“Interesting. And helpful. And no concept of personal space.” Lee shrugged where he sat peering out the cockpit window. “I like you more.”

There came a chuckle, low and deep, between baritone and bass. The Operator decided he liked that sound. Then, a pause. “Operator?”

“Hm?”

“I’ve noticed you’ve been restless, lately. I… I managed to restore life-support to the dojo, and I constructed a mimeograph. If you’d like, I could spar with you.”

Lee perked up at this. His Warframe’s alien heart raced. Sparring was something done between friends. Even the Tenno observed that. It was a wonderful gesture of trust and affection. On the other hand, Lee realized just who he would be sparring with. Nothing could be completely deleted. Traces always remained. If he sparred with Ordis… he sparred with the Beast of Bones.

“That sounds wonderful.” Lee stood and nodded to him. “I’ll meet you there.”

In silence, Ordis watched him walk through the ship. He wondered how old the operator was, what they looked like outside the frame. He remembered, when Lee was halfway there, that the Tenno had just celebrated his 25th birthday when all hell broke loose and Umbra put him in stasis. Remembering hurt. A lance of phantom-pain through a non-existent head. So he brushed it aside, focusing on observation. Lee moved with grace. Relaxed and loose. Casual. All long legs and lean muscle. Built light. Built for subterfuge, sabotage, and assassination. It suited him. He winced. He had said that pun aloud, before, and as much as he hated himself for it, it had made Lee give a soft laugh of amusement.

“Okay. Ready when you are.” Lee said as he strode into the transference-room. The dojo.

“Very well. One moment.” Ordis answered.

He didn’t know what he expected. Particles of light slithered through the air from the emitters overhead, coalescing into an ethereal, semi-solid form. There was no way to describe it. He hadn’t known what a mimeograph even was, before Simaris asked him to test-run on the simulations.

And, Lee didn’t know what form Ordis would take. Corpus were clunky and slow-moving thanks to their suits. Grineer were top-heavy and easy to bully over. There were so many Warframe forms to take. However, Ordis took none of those. From the ground up, a figure appeared, painted in blue and white tones.

Tall. So very tall. Outside his frame, Lee only stood around five-eight. This being was an imposing six-eight, two inches taller than his Frost frame. His armor was snug, similar to Ceno, but more organic-looking. Like leather, chitin, and bone. Outlining a lank figure built like an Excalibur frame. About his shoulders was a heavy cloak, over one shoulder with straps under the other, lined with thick pelt. The hood was up, and his helmet had many eye-like lights, glittering like stars. He was armed with a Buzlok, Dex Furis, and a pair of beautifully lethal Boltace Telos tonfas.

“It… just came to me.” Ordis admitted aloud.

“I like it.” Lee told him happily. “It suits you.”

“ _Smartass_.” The deeper voice snickered before the normal returned. “Shall we?”

“Melee only. Let’s do it.”

\---------

They observed one another as they fought.

Lee’s Orthos Prime – a coming of age gift from Umbra – had a retractable handle much like Tenno-built scythes. It gave him range, and kept Ordis at distance. His movements bore grace and precision. Like a dancer. All spins, twirls, flips, and flourish.

Ordis was subtle. His movements were hard and forceful. Firm. It spoke of decades of combat experience. The weight of motion, the flex of muscle, and the flow of cape painted a awesome image. It conveyed an immense well of power and discipline.

Thus, it was unstoppable force meets immovable object. Evenly matched. And it was glorious, even as it ended. Lee’s Orthos was sent skidding to the side of the chamber. He roundhouse-kicked the baton in the other direction. Ordis caught his foot on the next kick, heaved him up, and shoved him to the floor, using the Frost’s leg as leverage to pin him down, knee pressed close to his chest. Lee stared up at Ordis. The core of the Cephalon's light was so bright it was a blaze of silver, sharp and dangerous. Lee felt his Warframe’s alien heart race.

“That was… incredible.” Lee huffed, still catching his breath and trying to level his internal temp.

“You’re close to overheating, Operator.” Ordis’ voice was somewhere between concern and amusement as he released the Tenno. “You’re very skilled.”

“So, you had fun, too?”

“Of course.”

Lee tilted his head.

“Yes, Operator.” Ordis chuckled. “I enjoyed it.”

“Good.” He snickered, getting to his feet and stretching. “You could stand to have some fun now and then.”

\---------


	5. Blood and Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how to properly type a panic attack so I'm sorry if this isn't that good.

Lee didn’t know if Cephalons actually slept, or merely reached a semi-conscious rest. He wondered, sometimes.

The Operator was lost on a coasting dream of… Nothing. Of clouds, and running just for running’s sake. Feeling grass under his feet. Of flowing wind and passing time.

A sound drew him from his slumber. Just a low grumbling, at first. He powered his HUD on – a perk to being an eyeless Warframe was no one knew when you were looking. The room was still dim, the lanterns being the only source of light besides the stars. Ordis was in his repose, inner light a dim and soft blue, his halos turning slowly.

In moments like these, when he was awake, Lee sometimes wondered if Ordis and other Cephalons could dream. Cephalon “halos” were a projected embodiment of their connection to the Weave. To Lee, it seemed like a kind of hive-mind, though it could be compartmentalized to make little private corners for each Cephalon. Some Cephalons lost their connection to the Weave, and could be re-connected to it, Simaris had said, but then stated he had never encountered one in person.

Yet, something was amiss. Occasional soft tremors wracked the Cephalon’s holoform. Lee watched as the Cephalon’s halos occasionally "rubber-banded" back a bit before rotating as normal. Stuttering. The lights gave a brief flash, like lightning. The vents rattled.

Lee jumped, startled, when Ordis suddenly flashed bright a shout from both his voices. The ship's defense system whirred online in half a second. His holoform was tense, his inner light a blaze of silver with a smoky, white core.

“Ordis…?” He kept his voice low, wary of startling him.

Air shuddering through the vents, the Cephalon's halo shuddered. His inner light dulled to a steely grey, trembles wracking his holoform.

Lee sat up. “Ordis?”

No answer came, though blue was starting to trickle back into his light.

“Can I come closer?”

After a long moment, he murmured an assent. The Operator stood and went to him, lowering to stand on his knees and reaching up to cup the Cephalon’s holoform in his hands.

“Nightmares?”

Ordis' holoform jittered. “Yes. I… I see fire. And battlefields. I heard screams.”

Lee gave a soft purr, trying to comfort him even as he heard both the Cephalon’s voices come out at once.

“One moment, I was fighting by your side, and the next, fighting against you as… as the infestation consumed you.”

* “It was just a dream, hoshi-akari.” He smoothed a hand across the Cephalon’s angles and scars as if brushing hair aside, trying to soothe him. “Is this because of the last mission?”

His light tilted as he peered at the Frost’s flank, where the Phorid had ran him through with several quills. It had only been twelve hours since he had - in Mimeograph form - helped Lee pull the quills out and see to the injuries. Already, the wounds were on the mend, mostly because Lee kept his Warframe in top condition and could thus heal fairly quickly.

“Ordis…” Lee gently rested a hand on top of the Cephalon’s holoform.

Nothing he could say would be reassuring. Unless the specific Warframe was inoculated, there was a chance of infection. And, considering Mutalists, Cephalons also faced the possibility. The idea of something like that happening to Ordis, Ordan, pained and sickened Lee in a way he couldn’t describe.

The Operator sighed. “I have an idea. Here... Take your other form. The mimeograph.”

“Do you wish to spar?” Ordis questioned, puzzled.

“No. I have an idea on helping your sleep-cycle.”

After some hesitation, his octahedron form shifted, becoming the familiar mimeograph he used for sparring. The ghost of his past self.

Lee shifted to lay on his side, on the bedroll. “Here. Lay down next to me.”

Another pause, and he complied. He was stiff and uneasy, lying on his back in the aisle of the cockpit. Lee turned and snuggled into his side, against the semisolid form of the mimeograph, which felt warm and faintly electric like low-grade static. He began to sing the same song as before. Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. Lee had remarked once, offhandedly calling Ordis his star when speaking to a fellow Tenno. Hearing that song stirred a forgotten sensation in a chest that wasn’t there, his mimeograph’s inner light fluttering.

Singing died down to murmuring, and then humming. As Lee began to grow tired and drift off, Ordis found his sleep-cycle creeping up on him. Inching closer with a forgotten, purely organic feeling of fatigue. Though half-asleep, Lee felt it when the mimeograph dissolved. The lights dimmed, bathing them in the warm red light of the paper lanterns. The ship’s vents cycled air in soft, lukewarm puffs that reminded Lee of breathing.

With that, the orbiter drifted softly, allowing them to rest in peace, briefly away from the struggles of the galaxy.

\---------

Ordis decided he hated the Lotus.

She had called them claiming she needed them for a mission. That no one else was available. She claimed it was “imperative to everyone’s safety.” Manipulated Lee into going someplace he didn’t want to set foot in ever again. Where Ordis’ hatred of Ballas was hazy and felt vicarious, his newfound loathing for the Lotus was far more specific, and far more visceral.

The Orokin derelict was silent around Lee as he walked. His steps were clumsy with fear, his fingers trembling on his bow. Fighting endless waves of Infestation and being chased into the vent system by a Juggernaut had been the final straw. Something in his mind snapped.

Lee dropped his bow with a sob. He backed himself into a corner and slid down the wall to sit. Screams sounded and alarms blared in his mind. He could hear his parents clawing at the door as they tried to get in. Tried to kill him and eat him like the others. Banging. Screaming. Biting. Scratching. Alarms and synthetic voices. He wrapped one arm around his bent-up legs. His other arm wrapped around his head, digging claws into the back of his helm. He shook all over.

[Operator?] A very real unease tinted the familiar voice.

Surrounded by haunting light. The stench of the Void smelled like burning meat.

[Operator? … Lee?! … Lee, you can’t stay there! It isn’t safe!]

He whimpered, burying his face against his knees.

[Please! You need to get up!]

He was surrounded. The Void would take him, like it had his parents. It would eat him from the inside-out and leave only an Infested shell behind.

_[Gods dammit, kid!]_

The harsh whip-crack of a deep voice made the trembling stop. He took a few shuddering breaths.

_[Listen to me. I can guide you back out of there. But I need you to pick up that thrice-damned bow and get moving. Understand?]_

“Y-Yes…” It left him as a whisper.

[Good.] The voice sighed in relief. [Take a few deep breaths, and tell me when you’re ready.]

Peering to his left, and his right, he waited a moment before getting up. His hands shook, and he nearly dropped his bow as he retrieved it. “O-Ordis? I… I’m ready.”

[Alright. These vents lead all the way back to the ship. Come to me and I’ll pick you up.]

“But—”

 _[Fuck_ —Forget the Lotus. This derelict is so isolated and out of the way that I have no idea why she sent you here, and it doesn’t matter. Come back.]

Lee swallowed hard and nodded. “I’m on my way. Guide me.”

_[Gladly.]_

\---------

Lee felt like a child. He sat huddled between the market console and the wall, sobbing grossly, hugging his knees. He couldn’t explain it. Didn’t want to. But suddenly, the Zariman Ten Zero incident had come crashing down on him all over again. He hadn’t broken down like this since the civil war, when Tenno fought Orokin, and Umbra was teaching him the ways of war.

He felt disgusting for such a shameless display. Sticky and hot and aching on the inside like open wounds.

Ordis made certain to put a huge distance between them and the derelict. He charted for Earth, and set on the autopilot before taking his mimeograph form. It hurt something in him to see this. Some distant part of him knew what it was. On the tip of his tongue. But it caused that familiar migraine-like pain, and he avoided it.

Instead, he strode closer and knelt beside the Operator. This form was solid enough that he could pull Lee against him, holding the slighter’s head to his chest and wrapping the other arm around him. Lee sobbed into his chest, fingers digging at what wasn’t entirely there.

 _“I’m here, kid.”_ Ordis murmured, not caring that the other voice had come out.

“O-Ordan?” His sobs quietened at that.

The slip of name hit him like a brick to the back of his head. His hold tightened a fraction. Pain streaked across his Weave like fireworks. Even so… _“I’m here, Lee. I’m not goin anywhere.”_

It wasn’t Umbra’s voice. Umbra’s was always smooth and soft, oddly quiet. This voice was the voice of a mercenary and hero. Deep and smooth with a vague, rough edge. Like a blade that had seen many battles. Lee still had to mentally distinguish between Ordis and his real self for fear of slipping up again, saying something else, and triggering whatever failsafe Ballas had installed. That voice, and the fear of losing it, anchored him. Gave him something to focus on besides the gnawing fear the Void had brought out of him.

The sobbing died down slowly, tapering off into silence. Ordis shunted shield-power to his mimeograph and scooped the Operator up in his arms, turning to lay Lee on the bedroll.

“Are you alright?”

“I’ll… I’ll be okay.” Lee shivered, and swallowed hard. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“I presume you had a flashback.” He left it at that, not wanting to explain and not wanting to ask. “You should rest, Operator.”

“I doubt sleep is anywhere close to happening.”

“Perhaps… Perhaps I could help? I’m not much for singing, but I’ve collected some poetry from the Weave.”

“Please do. Hearing you helps.”

After that, Lee took several jobs on the opposite side of the system. Eager to get away from the Derelict and everything it represented.

\---------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Japanese, Google Translate: star light  
> I hyphenated it to show it was one connected statement, as making it one word would probably change the meaning entirely.


	6. Thought and Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short filler chapter.

“Operator, Ordis wonders… what are you thinking about?”

The question made Lee pause where he stood editing his mods. “Not much of anything right now. Sometimes, I just… zone out. Why?”

“Do you remember the Old War, Operator?” The Cephalon ventured carefully. “Ordis seems to have... misplaced those memories.”

It struck him as odd. His hands, now idle, rested on the mod foundry. “I do. Remember, that is.”

He hesitated.

“Do you have a specific question?”

“I do. But it isn’t important—I mean, if it bothers you, you don’t have to tell me anything.”

“You can ask, Ordis. If I don’t want to answer, I won’t.” He stepped back and strode up the ramp to the cockpit, where he sat cross-legged on the bedroll.

“Then… why was the war fought?”

There came a long pause before he answered. “Many reasons. It started with the Tenno, I think. With us.”

Ordis listened in perfect silence as Lee explained the Zariman Ten-Zero incident. How, against protocol, families and children were sent to colonize or search for hospitable places. The Void struck, and he was mum on details on that part. They returned, and the Orokin viewed the Tenno as a danger, an abomination. Margilus was the only one whom still saw them as children, and she fought to help them, making the transference chairs and prototype Warframes.

Then, Ballas and his ilk saw an opportunity. They slaughtered the best and brightest warriors, and created the Infestation, molding and shaping them into Warframes. Each was unique to the specific Tenno. Lee was assigned Frost because he was good at defense stratagem. And, after spending years tortured in a lab like some freakish experiment, he was taken away for training, and assigned to Umbra.

The trouble escalated when the Sentients – ancient biomechs Lee personally likened to the Mutalist specimens – returned from the void. Their leader, Hunhow, was angry that they were sent to die in such a hellish place, and that Rell, the Harrow, had sealed away a great threat so they could escape. He declared war, and the Orokin declared these “rabid machines” a danger. The Tenno were deployed to fight them.

When Hunhow disappeared – or, Lee thought he had disappeared – civil war broke out after a great warrior chose to try and kill the Emperors. Lee explained the Tenno were tired of being mistreated, and the Lotus had assisted them in breaking free. After the dust settled, the Grineer queens popped up. Twins, which marked them as an abomination to the Orokin, whom wanted to kill them. Their father refused, experimented on them, and birthed the Grineer.

“The only part out of place is the Corpus.” Lee shrugged, elbows resting on his knees. “I don’t know where they came from.”

“Who was Rell?” Ordis inquired, sounding innocent and childlike.

“When… When the adults lost their minds and started killing us, we ganged up and tried to hold our own in places they couldn’t reach. Rell was… I can’t remember what his parents called him. Handicapped. He wouldn’t stop crying, so the older kids tossed him out.”

“Oh…”

“I was seven, and the older kids were teenagers. I didn’t get much say. And I don’t think it was very fair. I remember yelling at them not to, and…” His hand rose, remembering how Dysma had slapped him. “It didn’t go well. But he survived. And he became the Harrow frame.”

“I’m sorry, Operator.” Ordis said in a soft voice. “If I knew, I never would’ve let the Lotus even mention the Derelict.”

“Thank you.” Lee murmured, nodding to him. “It means a lot to me. Not many people understand what I’ve… what Tenno… have been through.”

There came a pause. “Lee?”

“Hm?”

“What were the Sentients like?”

He considered a moment before answering. “They were magnificent. Great, amazing beings. I admired them. I was five when they were sent out, two years before we were. I thought they were so brave. So beautiful. Like angels.”

Ordan’s voice poked through in a soft chuckle.

“I felt bad, fighting them. I’m not even sure why I did. Fear of the Orokin? Of Ballas? To protect my fellow Tenno whose minds were too broken to remember their own names and loyalties?”

His halos fluttered, puzzled.

“Or because I was angry? Because I viewed them as a way to vent my wrath without people threatening to kill my friends and family? I still don’t know.”

“And Hunhow?”

“He was… incredible. Like a great monolith. I saw him, once, in the distance. People thought the emperors were gods. But I saw one, that day. Not them.”

A silence spanned between them. A calm one, before Ordis spoke. “Thank you, Operator. I feel that this was something I needed to hear.”

Lee nodded. “You’re welcome.”

\---------


	7. The Limbo Theorem

Lee had finally gotten life support to the living quarters. That included the bedroom, restroom, and private bathhouse. And a hot bath instead of wiping down or burning off gunk with Void-energy sounded so very appealing.

It came after a tough mission. He had spent a week in the jungle with occasional air-support from Ordis, all to sabotage Vay Hek’s operations. He and his Cephalon chatted when they could, but even in the quiet, Lee could feel Ordis with him. The Cephalon would play with his HUD, highlighting containers with ammunition, or enemy movements around him. A subtle way of helping when radio silence was needed.

When Lee returned, he was in for a surprise. After time in hot, humid jungles, Ordis greeted him with cool, dry air that made the Warframe’s gills and vents flare wide in relief.

“Welcome back, Operator.” Ordis chimed, clearly pleased.

“Good to be back, Ordis.” Lee sighed, basking in the cool air of the Orbiter. “Thanks for the air conditioning.”

“Not a problem. I also took the liberty last time you were at the relay. You’ll find something waiting for you on the foundry counter.”

Curious, he strode through the ship, and came to a small wooden box. When he opened it, he saw it was filled with tea on one side, and incense on the other side.

“I know we don’t keep a lot of credits on hand, but—”

“This is wonderful, Ordis!” Lee’s voice was quiet but his energy was bright like sunstruck sapphires. “Thank you so much.”

“Oh. You’re very welcome! You’ve been working hard, lately, and… it felt right. I’m not sure why.”

“It was a common gift, way back when. Before the civil war. Things exchanged between comrades and friends.” And lovers, he added mentally, and his heart did a little twirl.

“That… sounds correct, yes. I’m sorry. My memory is still hazy.”

“Don’t worry. I’m working on fixing it.” Lee reassured, tone light.

“Well… If I may ask, what other things do comrades do together?”

“Warriors often bathed together.” He heated a cup of water over the foundry, and began fixing the tea. “Sharing a bathhouse was common, as well as sharing meals, and sparring as you and I do.”

“Oh.” He sounded disheartened.

“You don’t have to have a body to join me, Ordis. We’re friends. Comrades. I don’t mind.” Lee assured him.

“Are you certain? I can’t be very present besides my holoform or mimeograph.”

“But you’re still here.”

There was a pause, followed by a relieved tone. “Yes. I am.”

Lee purred, the sound rolling in his chest. “Let me finish making this, and then I’ll go wash up.”

“Would you like me to run the bath, Operator? Er… Lee?”

“That’d be wonderful.” He pressed his wrist to the cup. “About as warm as my tea is, I think.”

Ordis complied, setting the temp, filling the bath. “Lee?”

“Hn?” He hummed as his maw unsealed and he sipped the heady tea.

“I was wondering… Do Warframes possess natural senses?”

“Like smell and taste? Oh, yes. Only sharper than most people’s.”

“Then… would you like bath oil?”

Lee suddenly remembered the baths in the Orbiters came with dispensers for such things, and he nodded with an appreciative hum. Cup of tea in one hand, he removed his syandana, setting it aside before striding to the living quarters. Ordis had materialized his mimeograph and sat beside the tub, on the edge, hands resting on his leg and in his lap, respectively. He couldn’t touch the water. It’d cause a painful static jolt to the Operator, in this form. But he could keep Lee company.

The Tenno sat on the edge of the tub, turning to dip a foot into the water before sinking one leg in, then the other, and slipping into the steaming liquid with a sigh. Ordis watched all the while, as the vents along the Warframe’s side rippled and closed as he submerged. It was interesting to see, much as Lee’s gills flaring out along his neck to breathe was interesting.

“We used to do this a lot.”

Ordis let out a puzzled hum.

“Umbra, and the other warriors, and I. You used to join in conversation, of course. So did the other Cephalons.”

“What sorts of things do people talk about in a bathhouse?” Ordis muttered sheepishly, feeling oddly exposed at this.

“Anything. And nothing. It was a time for relaxing and reflecting. So we avoided discussing battle or missions. But we’d talk about other things. What we’d eaten. Things we’d seen. Stuff we’d found. Just… idle talk, I guess.”

Lee set his tea aside and sat on his knees, reaching for a washcloth. He hadn’t done this in so long, but it was so familiar. It was easy to fall into known rhythms, tracing armor creases and navigating seams. Scrubbing off whatever stained his form and leaving the scent of jasmine bath oil behind.

“The tea is wonderful, by the way.” Lee said, trying to initiate conversation. “Thank you for that.”

“Of course, Operator.” Ordis replied, pleased. “I’m happy you like it.”

“Is there anything I can do for you? I’m curious.”

“No. I’m more happy that—you’re actually including me.”

He peered at the mimeograph. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?”

To this, he had no answer. Ordis had the answer. Had some sense that the slip of the Operator’s tongue after his panic attack was linked to that dark, gaping pit where his memories used to be. And thinking about it did strange things to his data-stream.

“You’re… You mean a lot to me, Ordis.” Lee filled the silence. “It makes no difference to me what form you take or body you have. I’ll always include you, because you deserve to be.”

His core burned brighter, fiercer, at this.

“Thanks.” Both voices said simultaneously, overlapping like they used to before he went into stasis.

\---------

Not long after the missions on Earth, Lee moved onto his next personal project. He had encountered a frequency out in the jungles while scanning Grineer security frequencies. It was a strange one, which bore the name of a Warframe. He sat by in the cockpit as Ordis filed through it.

“So this ‘Limbo Theorem’ you picked up. It's supposed to lead to a new Warframe?”

“Yeah. Is there something wrong with it?” Lee kicked his legs where he sat on the codex console, facing his holoform emitter.

“Well, it's woefully incomplete; half written proofs, unfinished equations.— _What idiot wrote this mess?!”_ Ordis snarled in frustration and sighed, halos fluttering. “Okay, okay. There is one thing here: a constant. A tuning frequency. But it's so minute. The Liset's antenna would never be able to— _Unless...”_

Lee tilted his head.

“Go to your nav console!” His voice was tinged with excitement. “I have an idea.”

Curious, he slid off the consol and moved to the one opposite of the radio. A map of the system popped up, meant for keeping track of location and for manually charting destinations if needed. There, he watched Orids mark a junk field orbiting Mars.

“The Grineer have several radio towers here, strung together to boost the signal. If we can hijack the signal and take control of their radio towers, I could track down the other pieces of the proofs.”

“Sounds good… Sure. Take me there and we’ll get started.”

\---------

It was a delight to see Ordis light up. With each collected piece of data, he received a piece of a story. It wasn’t surprising to know the Limbo in question spoke in math. There was a lot of equations and physics involved in leaping between planes, something Lee had never understood. But it felt good to know Ordis was enjoying a venture they could work together on.

Well, up until the ending. The Operator had a theory as to why they were finding the proofs, but he was hesitant to say anything. He just wanted to hear Ordis happy.

Lee listened as Ordis read it over. “Oh wait Limbo, no, that's a mistake! Y-You don't want to go there… it's too big a jump… You can't Rift walk… oh… oh no…”

“What happened?”

“Operator, I think I know why we're finding Limbo parts scattered throughout the system. His final Rift Walk was a miscalc—disaster.”

“I’m sorry, Ordis.” Lee murmured, pouting inside.

“Well, perhaps when you occupy this frame, you will use more… caution.”

“Actually…”

Ordis tensed, worried about what he might hear, lights bright and halos drawn in tightly.

“I’m not good at calculation and math. And I doubt I’d feel comfortable in anything besides my Frost. I don’t even use the Ash I have in storage.” Lee explained, speaking lightly. “Is there any way you could occupy it?”

This made him pause. From the way his light flickered and halos jittered, he was considering it. _“Maybe_ —I’m uncertain. I could easily pilot your Taxon or Moa. But a Warframe is semiorganic and relies upon the Void to work.”

From the way Lee’s head tilted, Ordis could see the way he conceded, and that he was disappointed.

“There might be a way. But I must do some research, first. Maybe someday—Oh.”

“What’s up?”

“You’ve received a message from Cephalon Simaris.”

Curious, he went to the codex console, pulling up his inbox. Sure enough, there sat a simple message. Or, simple for Simaris.

**(Cephalon Simaris: Tenno, I require your presence at the Sanctuary. It has to do with what we previously discussed. And it’s urgent.)**

\---------

Ordis felt like a voyeur, watching the Operator sleep as they traveled back to Earth. But he couldn’t bring himself to focus on anything else.

It nagged at him. The Cephalon was so broken, so damaged. Precepts corrupted, his the ship gutted by the Grineer…

He sighed inwardly. Perhaps it was time he admitted it. Lee needed a better Cephalon. One more functional. One that didn’t glitch or hear voices or have nightmares. Someone whom could actually keep him safe. They’d had too many close calls, already, and not all of them due to the Lotus.

Perhaps Cephalon Suda could help him find a suitable replacement. He would need to ask next time they were at the relay.

\---------


	8. Icharus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flew too close to the sun? (Cue boos from the crowd for bad puns.)

Lee rushed to the Sanctuary, worried something was wrong. Worried so many things were wrong. When he arrived, Simaris was waiting and expecting, looming like a sun in the dark of the chamber.

“Is Ordis okay? Is—”

“Calm yourself, Hunter.” Simaris ordered, voice even. “There’s nothing wrong with your Cephalon, in the sense you mean. Only a minor setback.”

A relieved breath rushed from his vents. “Alright… What kind of setback?”

“My Sentinels, whom I charged with retrieving his memories, haven’t reported back. It is imperative they be found.”

“Send my ship the coordinates. I’ll find them.”

“Thank you, Hunter.”

Lee made his way back to the ship. Ordis was ready to go, having received the coordinates and a mission brief. The coordinates led to a gulag on Ceres. It was a dismal, rancid place. Simaris and the Lotus were bickering, and it was clear he held no love for her, using a now familiar drawling sarcasm that only came out when he talked to her.

After, Simaris sent him on a hunt. “I need time to repair and chronicle this information. In the meantime, our usual arrangement will suffice.” It was followed by coordinates.

He didn’t mind. He was excited. On his way to the targets, he modified the Limbo frame, priming it and shifting it to resemble Ordis’ old self. A surprise all for him. He set it to build, and then hunted down the Synthesis targets in record time. He felt like he was soaring. Cresting towards something big and important. Restoring Ordis to his old self, proper.

But… he had flown too close to the sun. He began to realize when Simaris absently commented that Ordis would be useful to him.

It didn’t fully sink in until he was in an abandoned Derelict. Barren of life, though he had retrieved the codex here. He strode deeper into the ship, footfalls quiet but still echoing around him. It took all of Lee’s power to walk into this space, but there were no Infested and no Arboriforms. This place smelled clean. Sanitary, like a hospital. The goal in mind, healing his friend, kept him steady.

[Your potential is squandered here as a simple servant of this ‘Operator.’] Simaris intoned, speaking frankly. [It would be a shame for you to waste away here, as all things outside the Sanctuary do.]

Lee halted in the main hall.

[What I showed you before is only but a trifle of the knowledge I would give you, if you were to join me in the Sanctuary.]

“What?” Lee choked on a whimper before anger, hurt, took hold. “Simaris! We had a deal!”

The orange Cephalon said nothing.

“You said you’d help me repair his memories! That you’d help me heal him!”

[Simaris?] Ordis’ tone was confused. Questioning.

[Cephalon Ordis, please. You must learn to collaborate with me, if you are to be my eternal steward of the Sanctuary.]

[I… I would be steward of your Sanctuary?]

[Ours. And with a full retrofit; total memetic restoration.]

_[Abandon the Operator?!]_

[For his safety. You of all people know how damaged you are.]

[Yes…] Ordis hesitated a moment before sighing. [The Operator deserves a newer, better Ship Cephalon. I think… it’s probably for the best.]

[Then it is decided. I will prepare your data transfer when your Operator has completed this hunt. Tenno, I've marked the location.]

“What? No!” Lee screamed, whirling to face the other end of the hall, toward his ship. “Ordan! Please! You can’t…!”

The slipup made him cringe internally, lights bright and fluttering. [I… Simaris, perhaps we can discuss this after the Operator is safe? I don’t think… I feel…]

“Ordan, I need you! I…! I lo—”

[Enough.] Simaris cut in, a glare in his voice.

Ordis piped up, sounding annoyed. [Simaris, I don’t—]

[You have a task to complete, Hunter.] The orange Cephalon cut him off.

Lee felt numb. His stomach was sinking, his chest painfully tight. The nocked arrow slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor. He wanted to cry. Ordis had been with him since he was nineteen. Through years of war and peace. Waiting for him through centuries of stasis. Lee had been so close to helping him, to free him.

Now, Lee only wanted to sit down and cry himself to death.

Instead, he forced one foot in front of the other. One step. Two. In the Weave, Ordis was protesting, and Simaris was ignoring him. Slowly, Lee managed to walk. He nocked another arrow, movements sluggish and distracted. Perhaps that was how Chroma so easily pounced on him from above.

Lee shrieked as he was slammed into the floor hard enough to dent paneling.

[Operator!]

His bow snapped in half as claws came down. He kicked his feet, pressing them into the Chroma’s chest. He was grabbed by his ankles and thrown like he weighed nothing. He rolled to stand and drew his Orthos, managing to block two blows before it was jerked from his hands and thrown into the abyss off the walkway.

A gnarled, clawed hand seized the Frost by the throat, claws sinking into his gills. Lee clawed at the face, only for the Chroma’s maw to open wide and slam shut on his forearm. Then, he was thrown, smacking into and bending a decorative railing. His maw unsealed and he wailed in pain, synthetic bone jutting from alien flesh where his arm had broken. He drew his Furis, turning over and firing.

Bullets bounced off tough hide while he scooted backwards, opaque teal blood dribbling from his gills and open maw as he gurgled and choked. One bullet nailed the Chroma in the optic and it shrieked, bounding away and wiping at its face.

[Operator! The scanner! Use the Synthesis scanner!] Ordis cried, frantic.

[Ordis!] Simaris huffed, sounding annoyed. [Free yourself of this!]

Lee fumbled for his scanner. The Chroma roared at him, chest puffed out, claws and fangs bared.

[SHUT YOUR OSCILLATOR SIMARIS! Operator, use the scanner on the Chroma! You don’t have to risk yourself! You can release it from its control with the scanner!]

The Chroma came at him in a red blur.

The scanner went flying from his hand.

In a panic, Lee used Snowglobe, encasing himself in a sphere of biting cold wind. The Chroma skidded to a stop outside the shell with a snarl. It bashed its fists against the barrier before its energy shifted white. The second it set foot into the globe, Lee used the last of his energy to freeze the creature’s feet to the ground. The ice crackled. It began to splinter and break.

Just as it was about to lunge at him, a shadow tackled the Chroma from the side. The two forms went tumbling, but were soon back on their feet.

To Lee’s shock, he saw the Ash Prime from his ship’s storage compartment holding a Tipedo in hand. From movements alone, Lee knew it was Ordis. He blocked the Chroma’s claws fluidly, and with a twirl of the staff, slammed the brute across the face. It dazed Chroma just long enough for him to bring the blade end up in a sweep, severing the Chroma’s head with a gush of opaque Warframe ichor. Panting, he threw the Tipedo aside and rushed to the Operator, the Snowglobe doing nothing to him since Lee didn’t view him as a foe.

“Operator? _Kid, are you alright?”_ His voice jittered.

Lee hiccupped, staring at him dumbly. When he tried to look down at his arm, Ordis stopped him, a broad clawed hand cupping the side of his helm and forcing him to keep looking up at him.

“Listen to me. You’re already in shock. Don’t look at it. Understand?”

He whimpered.

The larger Warframe, the Cephalon, hefted him up bridal-fashion and rushed him back to the Orbiter. In the cockpit, he set Lee down on the bedroll and moved to the navigation consol. It’d take twelve hours to get back to the Strata Relay for medical treatment of the Warframe.

 _“Lee, listen to me.”_ Ordis cupped his face. “I need you to transfer out of your frame. Do you understand? Your frame is badly damaged.”

Dazedly, Lee shook his head. “N-No… If I don’t have a fame… Ordan, I could hurt you. I can’t… I don’t…”

He stared at him in surprise before recovering quickly. _“Lee… You won’t hurt me._ _Please…”_

The sound of Ordan’s voice sobered him a bit. Despite the urge, he didn’t look down at his arm. Instead, he searched for that familiar sensation of separation. In a fraction of a second, he was suddenly behind the Ash frame, sitting on the floor. Ordis turned and gently helped him to sit beside the Market Consol, flicking the Wolf noggle statue’s head and hoping the familiar trinket would distract Lee.

It did. Lee stared at the statue as Ordis dragged his damaged Frost down to the armory. He returned soon enough and knelt in front of him, holding the Operator’s dainty hands in his much larger ones. The Operator was pale, his cream-colored skin almost grey. His hair was done in an undercut, leaving a mohawk of waves and curls like a mane, platinum colored with a few strands of gold. Eyes the dull green hue of jade were glassy as they gazed at him.

He was a man. A young-looking man of fine features – high cheekbones, narrow jaw, and smooth cheeks. Scarred. The mark of the Void was present on his chin and down his throat, disappearing under his clothes, while diagonal scars ran from above his nose down to beneath his right eye. Yet, beautiful in a way that would make the emperors green with envy. Even so, he looked so young, so vulnerable. So... familiar.

“You… You came for me…?” Lee choked as if struggling to breathe without his preferred body.

His thumbs stroked the operator’s knuckles. “Yes. I did. _Why wouldn’t I?”_

“Y-You… Simaris… I thought…”

Ordis’ energy flickered. “I thought about it. Not leaving you entirely, but with my malfunctions, my memory… I was trying to find another Cephalon to help run the ship.”

His brows furrowed upwards, eyes threatening tears.

“I did you a disservice by not discussing it with you, first. For that, I’m sorry. But… you changed my mind, Lee.”

“H-How… How did I…?”

 _“Do you remember what you said to me? What you were going to say, before Simaris interrupted you?”_ Ordis murmured, voice tinged with the deeper tones. _“Do you remember what you called me?”_

“I need you.” Lee’s heart thumped harder, faster, in his chest. “I… I love you.”

He gave the operator’s hands a gentle squeeze.

“Ordan…”

 _“I love you, kid. Gods help me…”_ The Cephalon sighed heavily. “I’m going to try to make you some tea. Just… Just stay here. Alright?”

Lee nodded, eyes wet and starstruck.

\---------


	9. Mending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Added (not an OC):  
> Cephalon Ordis/ Ordan Karris – Ash Koga Prime with Saturn Six armor and syandana. Uses Buzlok auto-rifle, Dex Furis pistols, and Telos Boltace tonfas.

No permanent damage. Those were the best words Ordan had ever heard. He accompanied Lee to the relay’s medical wing, observed as the doctors checked him over. The Cephalon had remained until Lee fell asleep on the medical berth, covered in blankets with warm tea within reach.

Then, he headed to the Sanctuary.

Lee was in and out for several hours. There was a nagging fear he would hurt someone. He hadn’t been out of a Warframe since he had accidentally blinded Margulis. Since Ballas had beaten him within an inch of his life. The thought nagged at him and made him shiver beneath the starched blankets. He only cracked an eye when he felt a talon push his bangs from his face.

“Hey.” It was Ordan’s voice. “How do you feel?”

“Afraid.” Lee murmured. “I… I don’t like it here.”

“I know.”

“Where did you…?”

“I went to have a chat with Simaris.” The Ash Warframe muttered. “He performed a memetic restoration and removed Ballas’ work entirely. I went to Suda, and she confirmed.”

“But you… You’re here. With me.” Lee’s brows furrowed.

“Yeah.” Ordan assured him, low voice quiet. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I… I thought after your precepts were gone, you’d…” He trailed off, uncertain how to word it.

“I plan on sticking around, kid. You can count on that.” He told the Operator, mindful of his talons as he took the Tenno’s hand. “Simaris also offered supplies and blueprints for a Frost Prime.”

“Why? Since when would he apologize for anything, anyways?”

“From the Tenno I saw leaving in a huff when I got there, I assume there’s someone whom can actually guilt-trip him.”

He snorted at the idea, and gave a small laugh. When he fell quiet shortly after, the other continued.

“Simaris and Suda don’t think this is reversable. But they’re working on a memetic backtrace, so if this Warframe is killed, I’ll get pulled back to the ship.”

“Like when my frames get killed?”

He nodded. “But they have no idea if it’ll work, or if I’ll come out of it… all there.”

Lee pouted and reached out, cupping the Ash’s face in his hand. “We’ll just have to be careful, then. And kill our enemies first.”

The mercenary chuckled. It was a low, dark, rumbling thing that soothed the Operator’s nerves far more than any medicine could. “Ready to get out of here?”

Lee nodded, allowing the taller, larger being to help him up to stand. “Let’s go.”

\---------

The Frost Prime was good, but it didn’t feel like him until he shifted to the Hailstorm skin and the usual helmet. The Prime helmet made him think of Orokin, or the Corrupted. Of derelicts. Things he just didn’t want to think about.

He wasn’t the only one to change his appearance, of course. The Koga skin fit Ordan well, and the Saturn Six syandana added some protection to an otherwise exposed back. His weapons were likewise purely him. He stood taller than the Frost frame. Lee was six-foot-six with his frame, and Ordan’s newfound body stood seven-foot-two.

The two sparred extensively and Lee helped him mod his new form before they took some patrols together around Cetus. Konzu greeted them heartily, and Saya gave the pair a knowing look before sending them out to take care of some things, cutting off Grineer supplies, killing some officers, and rescuing a couple missing hunters. Over all, a massive success. And both of them were a mess when they returned to the Orbiter.

“Looks like you still know how to handle yourself.” Lee said as they stepped off the Liset. “How’s it feel?”

“Good.” The mercenary peered down at his hands, flexing them. “Familiar. Natural, in a way. Fewer aches and pains than I remember.”

“We should probably get cleaned up. I’ll help you take off your gear.”

A hand on his wrist stopped him. Lee turned and let out a surprised, cute little squeak when the Ash’s sealed maw pressed against his own. There came a pause, and a grumbling huff of disappointment from the mercenary.

“Here…” Lee chuckled, his maw unsealing with a quiet hiss.

The Frost’s cobalt, forked tongue dragged the corner of the taller’s mouth and he nipped Ordan’s jaw. Slowly, the Ash’s maw seam surfaced and began to part. To Ordan, it felt like someone opening a zipper from the middle of his lips outwards, painlessly. No sooner than his maw was exposed, he pressed closer, pulling the Frost against him by his hips. The Ash’s tongue was pointed and slightly rough, wrapping around his own as fangs clicked against one another. For a moment, Lee’s hands were idle on either side of him, but soon rested on the mercenary’s biceps. Lee pulled back reluctantly, admiring onyx gums, silver fangs, and a cerise red tongue.

“We… We really should go wash up.” Lee murmured, soft pants of air leaving his vents and gills.

“Maybe.” Ordan rested his brow against the Frost’s.

A purr left him at this, the Operator leading him away to the armory. Once their syandanas and armor pieces were removed, they headed to the living quarters.

Neither remarked about bathing together. Ordan’s returned memories confirmed what Lee had said before about communal bathing, and the mercenary remembered the practice with his clan and his team, back before he had been changed into a Cephalon. Of course, it didn’t take long for Ordan to hit a snag with something simple.

He cursed under his breath, feeling water seep into his vents as he tried wiping away the grit and grime of battle. Water was meant to go out that way, not in, and even a few drops were uncomfortable. A mild sting. An annoyance. Lee turned to him and wringed out a washcloth before shuffling over to him in the knee-deep water, the pair sitting on their knees and Ordan having his arm-blades fully retracted.

“Here.” Lee murmured, gently moving his hands. “Exhale.”

Ordan did, his vents flaring slightly. The Frost Prime was able to wipe away the excess water, and the mercenary shuddered at how sensitive the openings were.

“Your reflexes’ll catch up, over time. It took a few weeks before my vents would seal on their own. Same with your mouth. You’ll get the hang of it.”

“Why are they…?” He shuddered.

Lee froze, realizing the issue. “They’re sensitive to pick up differences in temperature and pressure. Same with our gills. When swimming, they close up part way and water goes in through the gills, down, and out through the vents.”

“To control temperature, I assume. I doubt this body needs to breathe.”

“It does. Warframes are part organic.” He busied himself with clearing away more water, carefully. “But it can hold its breath for long periods. How long depends on conditioning. But you’re right. It’s more geared toward temperature.”

Ordan hummed, only half paying attention.

Shyness crept over him. The mercenary had only JUST gotten a body, and Lee was touching him. Touching the Beast of Bones. Swallowing hard with a timid purr, he slid the washcloth into Ordan’s hand and turned to continue washing himself. When he felt a washcloth in clawed fingers touched his back, he jumped slightly, but then purred. Silence answered him, but Lee knew it’d be a while before Ordan figured out how to make those sorts of sounds. The fact he could walk or talk instinctually was a miracle.

He occasionally felt fangs nip the back of his neck and his shoulders. Fleeting, teasing touches. Lee was almost ashamed at how it made him gasp and make small, pleased noises. Whether he liked it or not, he could feel the seam between his legs starting to surface. He fought to keep it there instead of opening so shamelessly in the bath. When a hand rested on his thigh, he held a thick wrist, and Ordan paused behind him.

“It… It’d be easier and feel better in a bed instead of here.” Lee shuddered, thighs tense as he struggled not to push back against the mercenary.

“If you’re not comfortable—”

“I’ll let you know.”

That earned him a nuzzle, and a pleased hum.

\---------


	10. Down to Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SEX!!! Finally. Shorter than I would like, but I'm okay with how it turned out.

Lee moaned into the kiss as he was pushed backwards to lay on his bed. A nest of pelts, blankets, and pillows he had made on the vignette display since he had no desire for the vignettes. Absently, he hoped his internal temperature wouldn’t put his partner off too much. Clawed, broad hands gripped his hips and he mewed, spreading his legs enough for Ordan to settle between them.

When Ordan parted the kiss, Lee drew a groan from the mercenary, lapping at and nipping the gill-like vents along his neck.

“Is there a trick to this one, too?” Ordan rumbled, voice like a millstone, now.

He opened his maw to speak, only to whimper as the mercenary ground against him. “Friction… and want…”

“Mm.”

“O-Ordan, just… just so you know, Warframe anatomy is… Even without it, I’m… What I mean is—” 

“I figured.” The mercenary chuckled. “Relax.”

Some of the tenseness left his shoulders at this. He gasped, breath squeaking as the Ash’s sharp fangs nibbled along his gills and throat. Lee arched against him, feeling the seam between his legs begin to part and weep. He felt needy enough to ache, his clasping clit throbbing where it curled at the end. It occurred to Lee he hadn’t touched himself or been touched since before the war, when he was nineteen. Still a youth by Orokin standards, but a grown man among the Tenno where life expectancy was much shorter.

When Ordan felt something lukewarm and slick brush against his crotch, he pulled back enough to get a look. A pristine, cobalt quim rested between the Frost’s legs, short and splayed fins on either side reminding him of shark fins. Beneath the clasping clit were three less flexible ones, each shorter than the last, with the last resembling any normal blushing bud. Already, the teardrop-shaped opening was slavering for attention.

“Pretty as a picture.” Ordan murmured, hands sliding up the Frost’s legs to his hips, before gazing down his own body with a huff.

Lee wasn’t sure how to offer help. So he didn’t. Instead, he sat up and kissed along the Ash’s jaw, coaxing him into a kiss as he slid a hand between them. There came a barely-there gasp from the taller frame when Lee traced his fingers along his mons and down, rubbing the surfacing seam with firm touches. It drew a garbled curse from Ordan, and he could imagine why. Finally having a body after all this time… he had probably forgotten pleasure.

He didn’t want to explain it, either. Not now.

As they continued kissing, breathing through gills all the while, the Ash began to buck into the Frost’s hands. His emerging member was… imposing. Lee had never taken anyone much bigger than himself, but this was much, much bigger. A pointed, slant tip led down into a crown of ridges, with nodes leading down the sides to another series of ridges between the considerable girth and the base. Lee could barely fit his hand around it, and his fingers didn’t meet around the length’s middle as he pumped it.

A purr left him as he pulled back from the kiss, and he slowed his hand before pulling it away. Peering up at Ordan, Lee dragged his tongue across his palm, lapping up the strings of precum.

“Here.” Ordan rumbled and nipped the Frost’s jaw. “Move up the bed.”

Lee scooted back without grace, some part of him embarrassed. That thought vanished as the Ash prowled up after him and again settled between the Frost’s legs. When his knee pressed a coattail, he paused, looking up at him.

“There’s not much nerves there. It’s fine.” Lee murmured.

Even so, Ordan pushed them aside before setting. “I’m not sure how much prep I can give you with claws like these.”

Lee sat up on his elbows.

He dragged his clawed hands along the slighter, younger being’s body. Frost suited Lee so well. So perfectly.

“I can take it.” Lee thanked any gods listening his voice was steady, then. “Please…”

Ordan let out a pleased hum, one hand holding the slighter’s hip and the other lining himself up.

The Operator forced himself to remain relaxed, even as he felt the first nudge of pressure. Then, after a pause, the pressure let up and the Ash pulled back. His heart sunk and confusion set in as he peered up at his partner. However, it was just to shift Lee’s legs further apart, one over Ordan’s arm and the mercenary’s free hand pressing the slighter’s leg flat to the bed. Lee felt obscenely open, but gave no protest.

“Gimme a hand?” Ordan’s voice lilted in fondness.

Lee snorted, but obliged, reaching between them to align his member. The pressure returned, and again, he forced himself to relax. A quiet, quivering yowl left him as the head prized him open, spreading his quim. The pressure didn’t let up until the length had sank halfway or so, and already, Lee felt impossibly full. His inner walls twitched in protest, stinging with each spasm. His breaths shook. 

When he peered up at Ordan, he saw the mercenary fared no better. Hot breath puffed from his gills and vents, and even his maw as he panted. Muscles were drawn tight and twitchy with the effort to hold still. Lee whimpered. Not in pain, but surprise. The discomfort did nothing to dampen his arousal, his quim drooling around the intrusion and making him feel slick and open. As he began to relax, Ordan pressed in further, letting out a low sound like a growl. Lee considered it a miracle when the Ash’s hips met his own.

“Fuck…!” Lee choked, vents flaring and plumes of mist rising from them.

Ordan pulled back a bit and rolled his hips forward.

Bliss shot up Lee’s back. He jittered and gasped with a soft cry as he felt his partner’s – lover’s – cock struck his g-spot and prostate both, the taller’s Apollo Belt pressing his Warframe’s feminine sex while the unused masculine sex remained concealed. The second thrust made him shake, and the third made him cry out and arch, his hands resting on Ordan’s wrists while the Ash’s hands still held his thigh and knee, holding him apart and open.

“Ordan…” Lee wiggled his hips, noticing how his lover had stopped.

The clawed hands released him and instead pulled him to sit up, straddling the mercenary’s lap. One gripped a hip, the other splaying between his shoulders. Fangs gripped his gills on one side. Lee warbled at this, shaking arms wrapping around Ordan’s shoulders.

“H-Harder…” Lee panted. “Bite—Ah!”

The mercenary had cut him off by complying, digging fangs in hard enough to sting, but the neck vents were durable enough to handle the abuse. It wasn’t comfortable, and Lee doubted Ordan knew what that bite meant, but he craved it. A dormant, disjointed part of his Warframe’s neuroptics needed to feel that bite.

Thrusts came hard, jabbing upwards and making him bounce. The friction against his sweet-spots made him shake and gasp, drool trailing from his maw. Lee could feel the end creeping up on him like a rising tide. A cup being filled too full. Whining beside his lover’s audios, Lee managed to turn his head and return the clasp of teeth. Ordan snarled breathlessly, appreciatively, his claws pricking cool purple hide as he jerked the Frost bodily down onto his cock. A constant, wet, sliding smack of skin on skin that ground his clasping clit and sensitive nerves below it grinding against the larger frame’s mons.

Each thrust made Lee ache, the head of his lover’s member battering his core while the girth forced him open and sawed against his sensitive inner points until… until—

A sound. Lee let out a cross between a sob and a scream as release came crashing over him. His body moved like it had a will of its own, hips rolling as if he didn’t know whether to get away or seek more. His legs hugged the Ash’s chiseled flanks, Ordan’s thrusts speeding and jolting. The mercenary’s member felt impossibly larger, then, hugged by Lee’s rippling inner walls until, with a groaning shout, Ordan spilled. Lee felt a rush of heated, liquid bliss against his lukewarm innards, some seeping into his deepest part, past his core, as he sat shivering in the grizzled warrior’s lap.

Fangs released his gills and he fell back for a split second before he realized Ordan had slumped forward to brace on one palm. They lowered to the bed, Ordan’s larger, stronger form pressing him into the soft nest below. Rocking his hips with a sated hum as a semi-rough, pointed tongue lapped apologetically at the Frost’s gills. A moment later, Lee released the Ash’s gills and mirrored the apology with a soft, tired purr.

Ordan rested his brow on Lee’s chest, listening to the alien beat of a Warframe heart. “You alright?”

“Perfect.” Lee sighed happily. “But… can we do without puns in bed?”

He chuckled, looking up to nip the slighter’s chin. “No guarantees.”

\---------


	11. Remorse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please read the notes at the end. Important-ish stuff.

Some part of Lee supposed sleeping together should’ve been expected. He didn’t mind. Apparently, neither did Ordan. The Ash frame seemed to run hot while his Frost ran cool, so they complimented one another. Like a cool sheet or a warm blanket. Like an oasis.

Memory restoration or no, the dreams had followed. Lee occasionally woke up when his lover tensed or shifted or murmured. Small things, usually, that he could easily return to sleep from. Such was the case at the moment. A twitch of the shoulder Lee’s head rested beside. A mutter under the breath and a puff of hot air from flared gills.

A drowsy purr left Lee. They needed the rest, after pulling such a long mission at Paimon, Europa. On their way back to Earth, as they were, they could afford sleeping in, as well. However, the purring didn’t seem to work. It usually did the trick. Odd—

Lee jumped with a soft yelp as Ordan shot upright, sitting with one arm back over the Frost to shield him while the other arm was extended with talons out. Soft pants for air left him, condensation rolling down his flanks.

After a moment, the mercenary cursed under his breath, legs bending up and elbows resting on his knees.

“Ordan?” Lee murmured, sitting up, their combined emissives surrounding them in blue and purple light.

No answer. Ordan tried to push the dreams, the memories, away.

“Are you alright?”

“M’fine.” He finally huffed.

“You don’t sound fine.”

He paused, and heaved a sigh. “Once, I had hoped having my mind whole again would make the dreams stop.”

Lee rested his head on his shoulder. “They might, someday.”

A scoff answered him.

“I still have dreams, too. Nightmares, I mean. Probably not as bad as yours. But…”

“I tend to think your nightmares are worse than mine. You didn’t go out seeking hell. Hell found you, instead.”

“So did my star.”

It earns him a huff, followed by a heavy silence. Ordan gazed at him. “Do you know what I’ve done? Do you know what I did, for a chance to kill the Orokin?”

“I do. You killed those the Orokin deemed their enemies.”

“Thousands. Hundreds of thousands. And yet, you still—”

“Ordan.” Lee cut him off, quickly. “Do you know what I’ve done, as a Tenno?”

No answer came.

“The Tenno were ordered to do many terrible things. Genocide, among them, before we decided to rise against the Orokin.”

“Your reasons were simpler, purer, than mine. I wanted to be remembered. Remembered dying in a blaze of glory instead of a wasting disease.”

“You claim that was your reason. But is that you giving it, or Ballas?”

Ordan stared at him.

Lee cupped the Ash’s face in his hands. “You wanted to die doing something important. Something to redeem you. Were your methods poor? Yes. Did you disregard many lives? Yes. But I’ve done this, too. All Tenno have. We’ve learned from it. And it won’t happen again. Right?”

After a moment, he nodded with a soft purr. More a growl than a purr, but he was learning. He was trying.

“You’ve already redeemed yourself. As a Cephalon, you served me in battle, and kept me alive and sane. You helped set the Tenno free. You showed me, us, kindness when no one else would. That’s worth something, Ordan. I want you to remember that.”

“I suppose I could manage that.” Ordan nuzzled the Frost’s cheek.

“We should rest.” Lee sighed heavily. “Do you think you could fall asleep, again?”

“I doubt it.” Ordan’s frown was apparent in his voice.

“Can we try?”

After a moment, he laid back down and Lee laid with him, arm over the Forst’s chest. Lee hummed softly. Their song.

Despite himself, Ordan found himself drifting off, darkness pulling him back down and Lee following suit.

\---------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes/ Mild Lore Spoilers (This is entirely opinion and conjecture. Please no flames.)
> 
> I know Ordan Karris committed genocide for the sole purpose of getting close to and attempting to kill the Orokin. Part blaze of glory because he was dying, part because he realized the Orokin were, well, Orokin. I'm fully aware of this. The remorseful tone of his fragments, however, makes me think he does regret it to some extent. He's haunted by what he's done. Do I condone it? No. Do I forgive it? Not really. However, I feel like I understand it. A man doing terrible things to find a path of glory and redemption.
> 
> Ordan Karris doesn't say just who his victims were. From his behavior and the Fragments, I personally doubt he killed women/children, or even civilians. That, however, is just my opinion. And, let's face it, the Tenno massacring hundreds if not thousands of soldiers/schmucks isn't much better. I have no doubt the Tenno were used for Orokin purposes for a while before they finally had enough.


End file.
